'Stretcher-bearers': (33) Back to Italy from Egypt

Egyptian Interlude

"It had been intended that the Division should first of all rest and refresh itself in Egypt, and then move to Palestine for two months' training, but after only a fortnight in Egypt orders were received to return to Italy as soon as possible.... However it was still another month before the Division left (Egypt)..." (Algiers to Austria, page 154.)

We left Mena barracks one evening, the whole unit, officers excepted, packed into trailer lorries, like sheep going to market. Then, after a delay, we made for Cairo along a very poor road skirting a canal. Here we had our last view of the pyramids and the Sphinx silhouetted starkly against a pale green sky.
Our lorries were overloaded, resulting in an accident when a vehicle passing in the opposite direction struck a man's elbow as he stood pressed up against the offside. This led to a further delay.
We reached a small station near Cairo and gained our first sight of our new colonel in the train's corridor compartment. He came to the window munching a large sandwich. His main anxiety was directed towards the officers' kit which was swollen by suitcases, trunks, beds, armchairs and a carpet.
It did not take us long to find our quarters in the train - cattle trucks. 28 men filled ours.
Tea, consisting of an orange and a sandwich, was most welcome.
Darkness fell quickly and Arabs now found good sport stoning our wagon. We closed the side doors for protection and were not sorry to move off about 9.30 p.m.
The usual mish-mash of arms and legs tangled during the night. We reached Port Said early next morning and boarded the "Monarch of Bermuda", where we were allocated "D" deck, the highest so far.
Meal times were difficult again, as we sat wrist-to-wrist. All the same, we were sufficiently hungry to shovel food into our own mouths, in spite of the proximity of champing jaws on both sides.
The voyage passed almost uneventfully, the only excitement being caused by a floating mine which passed between our ship and another on the post beam. One of our escorts dropped behind to fire at it, but we did not see it explode.
We landed at Taranto.

ITALY 3rd visit.

We stayed over a week about 4 miles outside Taranto. One night I went to a cinema to see "Tawny Pipit", an English film about life in a country village. Admittedly, accents were stilted, action slow, but this did not justify the guffaws of a forces audience. Left the cinema depressed, but then reflected that for many infantrymen the future was insecure. They had every right to complain about what they thought was poor entertainment.

Last day at Taranto.
Damp misery. Rained out of our bivvies in the afternoon by a torrential downpour.
Sgt G..., his bivvy pitched in a hollow, had it filled by water rising to a foot, thus covering his blankets. Tubby, the cook, was handed back a boot which had floated downstream over 10 yards from his bivvy.
Cpl --- started scooping out the water with his hands before giving up and evacuating.
I lay stretched out at full length, diverting streams of water away. and was lucky enough to direct the flow away from the tent flap.
A 4.30 a.m reveille brought more rain. We covered about 100 miles travelling north and camped for the night near San Severo.
Next day we had another 4.30 a.m. reveille and made good headway.
Before long we were breaking new ground and reached Pescara, our last year's abandoned objective, just before dark. Here, however, the third "A" Coy lorry made a wrong turning and the remainder of the convoy followed it for about two miles before the error was realised. Then we all reversed and a chase began to pick up the rest of the convoy.
Shortly after dark it began to rain and we stopped for the night at a small wood facing the Adriatic Sea. It began to pour in torrents. The men erected their bivvies without lights while the officers ordered the ambulance drivers to sleep away from their vehicles and themselves used the ambulance beds. However, our new CO came round in the rain to see that we were all right and reached our bivvy (Lingard and me) at a critical moment when we discovered that we had pitched our bivvy over latrine matter. We were too tired and wet to move again, but dug shallow trenches to divert the rain.
Rum ration issued.
On to Fano.
During one of the few fine days we had a small route march of only six miles, but it was a sound idea to start training again, since we were far from fit. Long sick parades, sores and boils proved that.
We gained information of a sudden move, so I steeled myself to wake about 4 a.m. Most of us now have not the slightest difficulty in waking up within about 15 minutes of any fixed hour. That night the devil sent down rain and wind without respite. Inside our bivvy a thin spray fell on our upturned faces through the canvas and I was fully awake before the cook's hydro-burner blasted the air. Then followed cries of "Wakey, wakey!", coupled with tappings on bivvy roofs.
I reached for my socks, wet through, trousers, still damp, anklets web, ditto, and boots, dressed in a supine position and then crawled out into the mud on all fours. It was still pouring.
A few minutes later Leslie Lingard's head appeared at the bivvy flaps and he too emerged, humming a little tune, a habit he has adopted in times of stress to maintain self-control.
A little later another voice was singing "Apple Blossom Time".
Breakfast, although we could hardly see it, tasted quite good.
I ran to the water cart with flannel and toothbrush, an apology for a wash, and we were on the road again. Speed seemed to be imperative.
It was a real mystery tour this time and, as I write, it remains so. We have been travelling all day through some of the most beautiful countryside we have yet seen in Italy. There are different trees, not seen in the south: cypress, sycamore, plane, horse chestnut. There are also buttressed towers, round strongholds, old churches and ancient villages, their features stencilled boldly in the sharp air. Finally we draw up in a country lane and bivouac in an olive grove
Next morning we travelled all day until 6.p.m, stopping at a country mansion for the night. The exterior of the house was not impressive. Its drive, partially destroyed by enemy action, now resembled a cart track. Yet, once inside, we found many rooms with high, decorated ceilings and rich furniture.
The library was stacked chiefly with German literature, but there were also English, French and Italian books, including Shakespeare, Thackeray and Dickens.
In the music room we found a rather poor harmonium and a fine grand piano, with musical scores ranging from Beethoven to Strauss. There was also a billiard room complete with full size table, a lounge with a wooden beamed roof and a large fireplace. This room overlooked a rose garden.
The house also had a well lighted dining room, its ceiling decorated with blue coffers. from which hung a crystal chandelier..
In true army fashion, and under protest from the men themselves, we were ordered to pile furniture on the billiard table and then slept on the floor of the billiard room..
The next morning we had already started to repair the drive when "A" Coy received directions to move out and make room for HQ Coy who were to convert the place into a convalescent hospital..
Our lorry broke down, but was shortly in running order again, so we set out in pursuit of the rest of "A" Coy until frantically recalled by Capt...who had chased after us in a staff car. We were turn round and go out on sections to relieve 152 Field Ambulance who might be hard pressed.
We set off with light equipment about 4 p.m. A thunder storm brought rain in torrents. Chains had to be fitted on to wheels. Two vehicles in front became hopelessly ditched in a sea of mud after skidding. We too skidded a good deal and could not climb the steeper hills, but American winch lorries were already in place to haul us up.
Rice, new to our unit, started moaning because we had no tea, but gaining no support, - we were ourselves visualising missing all further meals that day- he lapsed into silence.
Eventually, at 9.30 p.m. approx., we reached 152 Field Ambulance, where it was found impossible to proceed further forward that night, so we remained on our lorries while Lieut. H---- found billets for himself, his batman, the NCOs and about 6 men. The rest of us were to sleep on the lorries.
The 152 Field Ambulance did in fact provide us with a good supper (a tin of M and V (Meat and Vegetable) each with tea), for which we were very thankful, and we managed to sleep 8 to a lorry, fully dressed, with 2 blankets and a greatcoat each. It might have been far worse.
Next morning we had breakfast under a warming sun. We learnt now that far too many men had been requested and that 30 instead of 50 were now required. These 30 were chosen haphazardly. We of the remaining 20 awaited further orders and were assigned billets in two farmhouses nearby and were divided into three groups.
Five of us were allotted a room with a fireplace, so we lighted a fire, after blocking up a shell hole in the wall.. We also made paraffin lights out of ration cigarette tins and laid down cardboard on the floor to counteract extensive damp.
Towards dark we blacked out a window with sacking and more cardboard to pass a fairly comfortable night
In the morning we formed a human chain and set about road repairing, throwing blocks of stone from ruined houses to fill in deep ruts in the road made by heavy American lorries. There had been accidents along our strip of road.
In the evening I made friends with an Italian family in the house where we were staying and met a small child, Roberto, who had been in hospital a year before with a fractured femur. This had been corrected by a metal shaft. When I looked at it I saw that both the holes made by this "splint" were suppurating. There was also considerable swelling in the boy's groin. I asked the mother to take the child to our MO. After some hesitation the MO of the 152 Field Ambulance agreed to see the boy and obviously found his case interesting because he called in another MO and between them they diagnosed osteomyelitis. They detailed an ambulance to take the child into Florence to the civilian hospital the following morning.
That evening Peel and I were invited to talk to the father and other relatives of the child, so we took cigarettes and chocolate and they gave us a bread and cheese supper..
I wrote letters in English and faulty Italian to the effect that the father should be allowed to notify his brother in Florence to look after the child, since the father was expecting to return to us the same night.
The father left next day, as arranged. We were cleared out of our billet to another adjoining farmhouse.
Much rain. Very cold., Rum ration issued.
The same evening.
Road very bad again. Boy's father could not return, but stayed with his brother in Florence.
A young relation of the family looked in on us. He claimed he had helped British prisoners to escape and showed us names and addresses written in English style, unlike the Italian round style. I believed his story.

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